A Pizza Man's Weakness
by soulffles
Summary: "How much do you get paid for being an asshole?"- AU in which Soul finds himself vulnerable against the girl with harlequin eyes and wispy hair.


**notes:** this oneshot soma fic stemmed from an idea i had about an insanely attractive pizza man (soul) meeting an equally attractive customer (aka maka) within the bounds of _friendly banter, _nothing else. however, i can say that their conversation is nowhere _near _friendly in this. it's more like, "hey you're kind of hot but you also really annoy me so i'm gonna insult your boobs and hope for the best" kinda thing. i'm incredibly sorry.

now, without further ado, please enjoy this stupidly cheesy au that consists of traditional boob shaming and a socially awkward soul.

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><p><strong><em>A Pizza Man's Weakness<em>**

**by:** soulffles

Soul wanted to smash his face into the steering wheel, he really did. The urge was prominent and slightly tempting, but he kept his cool as he violently swerved the car to the right. A chunk of ivory hair fell into his field of vision and he lifted a hand to smack it away, an angry scowl reaching his face. Next to him, the stack of pizza boxes seemed to be airborne the same time he fought to keep control of the skidding vehicle.

Soul could admit to knowing a lot of things; however, that really didn't mean that he actually knew those things. The only _thing_ that he positively did know was the mistake he had made applying for this godforsaken job. Delivering pizzas was so painfully cliché for a teenage boy, and he absolutely hated the social interaction that came along with it. It wasn't as if he was socially impaired, or whatever. It was just the uncomfortable feeling he received when he actually had to make eye contact with someone. Although, he appeared to have the upper hand in those situations because all he had to do was snarl at the costumer and the money would be in his hands in no time. And he wouldn't even have to blink.

Soul let his eyes wander the expanse of the street, catching sight of the designated address through the blaring headlights. He inwardly smirked in triumph before careening the car up the driveway in one fluent motion. After this last delivery, he could finally go home for the night and sleep.

The car seemingly came to a halt, and Soul reached for the pizzas with trivial vexation, wriggling his nose in disgust. It smelled like unqualified ass in his car. Gagging a little, he gripped the stack of boxes nonetheless with clenched fingers and set off towards the door.

Just one more house and he was done. Just one more _fucking_ house.

His sneakered feet shuffled against the cracked pavement, carrying him to his destination with unceremonious anticipation. All Soul wanted in life was to get out of there as soon as possible. That was it. That was his goal. A little ephemeral, but it would have to do for the time being. It was only reasonable since his eyes kind of drooped a little and he wanted to collapse into a literal ball and sleep. However, he bit his tongue in vivid frustration and just rang the doorbell so he could leave already.

It took a few seconds for the door to open, and Soul got ready to flash his teeth and growl at the customer if needed to. He quickly brought a hand to his hair and ruffled it for effect, just in case.

When the threshold came into full view, he simply took a step back and looked down. "$14.99," he muttered as he thrust the two boxes forward with another scowl. He heard a small, microscopic gasp that made his ears perk with curiosity and suddenly he found himself gazing up.

"How much do you get paid for being an asshole?" Her voice was coarse and unwavering, but he still felt himself stumble back from the melodious tune that erupted out in chords of ruptured bliss. Catching his footing not so gracefully, he drank in her appearance with shaking knees. The only thing he could focus on was the way her jaw curved upward to meet a devastatingly stunning pair of harlequin eyes and _goddammit why would he notice her eyes_.

He was going insane, probably. That was the most reasonable explanation, the most plausible one. The sickening smell of burnt pizza and vacillated car fumes was finally getting to him, he presumed. Never once had he acted this uncool, and he certainly wouldn't stop for some insignificant girl. Especially some insignificant girl with hair that reminded him of sunshine and eyes that made his head spin. He tried to ignore the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, silently and indefinitely smirking to himself instead.

Recovering from the initial shock he received without warning, Soul stood up to his full height and glowered against the shadows. His jacket blew in the wind and ruffled in sync with the rhythm it gave. The red in his eyes seemed to darken almost immediately as he clutched those stupid pizza boxes with uncharted force and continued to grin even when the girl growled back.

He only said it because he wanted to hear her voice again.

"How much do you get paid for being a landing strip? You have the chest of an eleven year old boy."

It was silent for a moment. The girl remained still, contemplating her next move it seemed. She narrowed those damn eyes into slits and lifted a hand to her hip, stepping closer until their noses brushed and Soul had to hold his breath or else he might combust on the spot. He didn't really mean to, but he discreetly glanced down and noticed just how close their chests were and he nearly choked because he had _certainly_ misjudged her.

This time, her voice came out more clearly and less rushed, a short quip echoing in the night air. "Give me my pizza and leave."

Soul snapped out of the daze he was in. Once again, she had infiltrated his intricate yet transparent walls, and when those walls crumbled to the very last bit and his life was hanging on a thread, she would still be glaring at him through those half-lidded eyes as flowers grew from her hair and planets revolved around her head.

"With pleasure," he shot back stiffly, brows pulled into a murderous expression that could scare anyone away _but_ her.

As he shoved the haul into her arms, their skin brushed. Porcelain met sand paper, and the girl kind of fumbled with the money before handing it to him with a frown. Soul merrily turned around to leave, just as she'd asked, well more like _demanded_, before cold fingers took a liking to his wrist and he was tugged back by unexpected strength.

"Just so you know, you're not off the hook yet." Venom cascaded from her lips, showering across the sky and the moon and Soul's eyelashes. It stuck to his clothing, pulling and tugging until he wanted to scream to the heavens. Gasping breaths were heard as she tightened her grip and he winced because _he felt it again_. That dumb, incompetent wave of sensational bliss shooting up his arm like a drug. Nothing in the world could compare to the piercing strike of lightning that resigned in the depths of her soul. It rendered him even more speechless than before and it hadn't even been five minutes of them knowing each other.

Her hand still grappled with his ostensibly stiff wrist. He wanted so badly to shove her away and just _go home_- but he couldn't. Not when he towered over her like a skyscraper and she was still looking up at him with so much damn _fire_ that he wanted the world to bathe in the flames she gave off.

"Understood, " he deadpanned, acting as if her tank top wasn't riding up to expose the pasty flesh of her abdomen.

The girl only flung him one last indignant expression before spinning on her heels, sultry voice exploding out a string of censorious insults as she slammed the door closed with her foot.

And then, Soul was alone once again. Although this time, he held no pizza boxes and he really wasn't all that mad anymore.

_Why_, he asked himself. _He did not know why_.


End file.
